


Please, Leave Him Be

by NikeScaret



Series: Benefits of Panicking [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'll put the link at the bottom, I'm adding PLOT to this oh no, Jon has a panic attack, Stole this poem from tumblr, Stop me now please!, This series is turning darker each time I write it, stop me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 09:43:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10000400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikeScaret/pseuds/NikeScaret
Summary: I know you made him to bea warriora soldiera hero.But even gunmetal can warpand even wolf’s teeth can dulland I do not want to see him breakthe way old and worn and overused things do.I do not want to see him go up in flamesthe way all heroes end up martyrs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello~~ I am back wth another! And I did it in Jon's POV.... Again....
> 
> I need to work on it okay?
> 
> Also is anyone else amused that when I write Damian it's all silly but when I write Jon it's really not? 
> 
> Cause I sure as hell do.
> 
> Comments are my lifeblood along with birdflash and jondami. Give me lifeblood please.
> 
> Enjoy~~~

Jon's in class, antsy and anxious because Damian got a bullet graze to the arm last night and he wants to check up on him, when he finally notices a poem in his book.

 

He looks up and the substitute is asking for someone to read a poem.

 

Jon slowly raises his hand, getting sick in his stomach because this one hits to close to his heart.

 

“Jon, who you please read the one you chose?”

 

Jon takes a shaky breath and begins.

 

“Please, let him be soft

I know you made him

    with gunmetal bones

    and wolf’s teeth.

I know you made him to be

    a warrior

    a soldier

    a hero.

But even gunmetal can warp

and even wolf’s teeth can dull

and I do not want to see him break

the way old and worn and overused things do.

I do not want to see him go up in flames

the way all heroes end up martyrs.”

 

Here Jon chokes on his words because that's far too true. Dad's told him about other heroes, his friends who have died and Jon doesn't want that for Damian.

  
Then again, if Damian does die, so does he.

 

“I know that you will tell me

that the world needs him.

The world needs his heart

and his faith

    and his courage

    and his strength

    and his bones and his teeth and his blood and his voice and his–

The world needs anything he will give them.”

 

Jon's crying now and he can feel the tears running down his cheeks because _everyone claims that they need Damian when all Jon wants to say is_ **_leave him alone._ **

  
  
“Damn the world,

    and damn you too.

Damn anyone that ever asked anything of him,

    damn anyone that ever took anything from him,

          damn anyone that ever prayed to his name.

You know that he will give them everything

    until there is nothing left of him

        but the imprint of dust

             where his feet once trod.”

 

Jon's forcing back his screams. Gotham, Batman, _everyone_ demands so many things of Damian, so much that he's already died trying to do what he felt was and still is his responsibility.

 

To save his family.

 

  
“You know that he will bear the world like Atlas

   until his shoulders collapse

        and his knees buckle

             and he is crushed by all he used to carry.  
  
Dear God,

you have already made an Atlas.

You have already made an Achilles and an Icarus and a Hercules.

You have already made a sacrificial lamb of your Son.

You have already made so many heroes,

and you can make another again.

You can have your pick of heroes.”

 

Jon's so sure of that too. There have an _entire league_ , why can't Damian just _leave?_

 

“So please, I beg you–

he is all that I have,

and you have so many heroes

and the world has so many more.

Let him be soft,

and let him be mine.”

 

Jon collapses in his seat, hiding away his face because that poem hit every single one of his thoughts.

 

Why can't Damian be out? He's been fighting for all his life, and the two of them only wants to help. Jon can help without his powers. Damian can help without his training.

 

Damian _is_ all that he has. Why can't he just be…

 

Why does everyone expect so much of him?

 

His teacher is touching his shoulder and walking him out into the hall, asking what's wrong, but Jon can't answer.

 

He can't-

 

He needs to talk to Damian.

 

He manages to say this, and when the sub nods, he fumbles for his phone, pressing the video chat icon and clicking on the only recent one.

 

Damian answers on the first ring and his small smile changes to a concerned frown at the sight of Jon.

 

And, god, what a mess he must seem.

 

He catches his reflection in the screen and he _is_ such a terrible mess; eyes red and lips even redder from his desperate biting to keep in his sobs, cheeks flushed and hair all of the place.

 

“Beloved? Jon, what's wrong?”

 

Jon just cries even harder because Damian is so caring. So so caring and kind and-

 

“Dami, Dami-”Jon curls into a ball and huddles against the wall, trying to keep from laughing out of fear. Fear that Damian might die tonight, might leave Jon forever, and _he can't breath,  he can't breathe, he can't see, his eyesight is going blurry, what's happening, he can't breath, Damian what's going on-_

 

“Jon!” Damian's shouting and he sounds panicked and Jon feels horrible because Damian shouldn't sound so scared.

 

There's a ball of hysteria in his chest and throat and-

 

There's a hand on his shoulder, a big hand, one Jon thinks he should recognize, but all that's going through his mind is _Damian Damian Damian_ and he can't be bothered to think about it.

 

Then small calloused hands touch his face and Jon recognizes those, he does, and it's a single moment of clarity, and Jon forces his eyes to open- _when did he close them?-_ and sees Damian. Damian in sweats and a red long sleeved shirt and _he's here, here, here, he's here_.

 

Damian leans forward and pulls him into a hug, letting Jon rest his head on his chest, shushing his howls and simply holding him, letting Jon know that _he here, that he's not dead._

 

Damian's rocking him like a baby and Jon's slowly calming down, but it's not _enough._

 

Jon leans back and takes Damian with him, let's Damian tumble against his chest and end up in his lap before kissing Damian on the lips, just once, and resting his forehead on Damian's.

 

Damian has his breathing at a steady pace and Jon doesn't realize that his own is matching it until he feels Damian exhale the same time that he does.

 

Jon's so tired, oh so tired, so he puts his head in Damian's lap and falls asleep to Damian humming Arabic lullabies to him and his small brown hands running through his hair.

* * *

Damian's relieved when Jon goes to sleep, and he adjusts him so that he's more comfortable before looking up at Clark, who looks just as Damian feels.

 

“Thank you.” Damian manages. He hates to do that but Clark deserves it. He got Damian to his Beloved within half a minute.

 

Clark just nods and sits beside him, blue eyes watching the wall across from him.

 

Damian eyes the students watching them in shock and he snarls, throwing his sweatshirt over Jon and giving a stinging, “What are you looking at. Go _away.”_

 

They disperse soon after, Damian's best Batglare stabbing them as they go.

 

Damian glances down at the boy in his lap, moves the makeshift blanket so that it covers his Beloved better, and let's his head fall on the hard surface behind him.

 

He doesn't even remember going to sleep.

 

(Clark leaves after looking at them fit a second, going to thank the substitute for calling him. She nods and says she herself used to have panic attacks so she knew it helps drastically to have someone familiar, and she isn't it. Still, he thanks her.

 

He'll thank Damian later, he thinks, giving a look over his shoulder to the two boys on the floor. After all, he calmed Jon down enough so that he could breath. And for that Clark is forever grateful.

 

After all, the image of his son gasping for breath against a wall will haunt his dreams for the next year, he knows. And Clark doesn't need any more snapshots Jon's distress, because every single detail is already burned in his mind from what he saw.)

* * *

(One of the kids took a photo of the two of them and send it to to a well-known newspaper, who publishes the story as soon as they can.

 

The picture itself is adorable, but the reason it even happened it isn't.

 

Damian is enraged when he sees the picture and tears the company apart until it's little more than a memory.

 

That moment is a private moment.

 

It is not something the public can have.

  
Jon, who is staying at the Manor that day, agrees.)

**Author's Note:**

> [Link to poem!](http://pencap.tumblr.com/post/152685439505/please-let-him-be-soft-i-know-you-made-him)
> 
>  
> 
> Check this person out! They make _fantastic_ poems!


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